


Duality

by renskylo



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, But whatever, Choking, Co-Dependency, Dom/sub, Dominant Kylo Ren, F/M, Force Choking (Star Wars), Force-Sensitive Reader, Kylo Ren is Not Nice, Memory Loss, Self-Insert, a story of self discovery lmao, also i dont know shit about the planets and ships or anything, and also an engineer/inventor, and also really fucking mouthy, and an arms dealer through space???, dont expect a happy ending, fix your attitude may have inspired this, google and wookiepedia are my new best friends, he likes to be called commander lmao, i definitely invented a storm trooper called Minx and I want to elaborate on her cuz shes cool, i hate the helmet also he takes it off way early, im making all this up as we go, listen im writing this for my own enjoyment, poe makes cameos, reader definitely is cooler than Kylo, reader has some serious issues lmao, reader is a badass, reader is a pilot, this is probably horribly inaccurate to the lore, this takes place pre tfa, uhhhh also the quiet trooper may be Finn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-08
Updated: 2020-05-03
Packaged: 2021-03-01 16:41:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23550244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/renskylo/pseuds/renskylo
Summary: du.al.i.tynoun- an instance of opposition or contrast between two concepts or two aspects of something; a dualism.“i am the lion andyou are the lamb andas prophesied,we will lie down together.”--------A nameless girl from Tatooine, you deal weapons of your own invention to both the Rebellion and the First Order. When it comes time to decide your own destiny, the dark side gets in the way.Stuck in the lair of Kylo Ren himself, you have to decide. Will you stay for the sake of the feeling in your chest? Or will you do what you know is the right thing?
Relationships: Kylo Ren/Reader, Kylo Ren/You
Kudos: 31





	1. One.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone! First chapter, wooh!! 
> 
> TW: alcohol abuse
> 
> I hope you enjoy this. Please leave a comment and/or kudos if you so please :)

It was never a sober-minded choice to deal weapons to the First Order. In fact, you were generally outspoken about your defined hatred towards them. It wasn’t until a few drinks into a night at a Cantina in Bestine that you’d consider arms dealing to the Dark Side. 

It became common knowledge that you’d spend Friday nights drinking alone until your better judgement was clouded. You weren’t exactly proud of your alcohol habit, but you also didn’t really care what the general public happened to think of it. Drinking never did anything good for you, and only made your sadness worse. Still, you’d find yourself drunk and stumbling home more frequently than you’d care to admit.

The knowledge of your little habit became very well known on Tatooine. Eventually, it became such common knowledge that word of it spread far off Tatooine and into the outermost Galaxy, landing just inside the palm of the remnants of the Galactic Empire. Of course, if you were truly a nobody, this wouldn’t mean anything. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case.

Being the most reputable arms dealer in the galaxy had its price, and unfortunately that meant being victimized by the First Order. They targeted you every time they found you drunk, and wound up buying you out of every blueprint and piece of machinery you had to offer.

You’d wake up the following morning with a raging hangover and an overwhelming sense of guilt that sat on your stomach like a brick of lead, and it refused to leave no matter how much you tried to vomit and spit it out of you.

The remorse only made your drinking habits worse. The more you sold to the First Order, the worse you felt. You spent many sleepless nights wishing you could stop, but you couldn’t will yourself to do so. The money was too good, and you often tried to fight your conscience back with the promise of putting that money away for a ship of your own.

If you could get off Tatooine one day, this could all be over. 

You had no idea how you’d even gotten onto Tatooine in the first place, though you did know that you hadn’t been born there. You’d heard whispers growing up that you were from the Arkanis sector, born into wealth, but you didn’t know if you should feel inclined to believe them. All you knew for sure is you’d arrived sometime just after turning 13 with a wiped memory and no family. Just yourself. You didn’t know who your parents were, and you didn’t care to find out. After all, they were the ones who decided you were better off fending for yourself in the arid, sand ridden planet they’d dumped you on. The very thought of them made your blood pressure rise. 

Dealing with the deep-rooted fear of not knowing who you were made your life complicated. You didn’t have a home, or friends, or even a name. Nobody could tell you even that. You’d fend for yourself, living in a vacant moisture farm you’d found as you wandered the sands. You learned you repair things and make them even better than they’d been initially. As you got older, you began experimenting with technology and weapon building, just to see what you could be capable of. You spent sleepless nights soldering together pieces of wire and metal, following make-shift blueprints and adapting them as you went. You got so good that manufacturing both blueprints and smaller weapons became your specialty. An arms dealer for the masses, both good and bad. 

At some point, you started making repairs to smaller ships and landspeeders, just to make ends meet. Money was rough, at least for as long as you were selling to smaller private parties. Making repairs was an easy way to put away a few extra credits. At some point, you started to get curious about what flying a ship was like. You’d test drive them around a bit, making sure that everything was up to par. And then it became ‘test driving’ them all around Tatooine. You were driving them faster and higher, and the adrenaline was almost as intoxicating as the alcohol you’d drink down at the Cantina. One day you took a ship out into space, and you couldn’t help but laugh gleefully as you soared through the stars. 

That night you went home, laying in bed and staring up at the chips in your ceiling, and you couldn’t help but wonder. What would being a Rebellion pilot be like? All that risk and excitement, fighting the good fight and doing something important. You wondered just what it would be like to be an important somebody, flying planes and making repairs and working hard to save the Galaxy from the evils of the Order. 

You longed for that life. It became everything you wanted, and the reason you wanted a ship so bad. 

Before the Order found you, you’d formed somewhat of an alliance with the Rebellion. You’d just started selling things to them, getting closer and closer to the life you knew you’d been born to lead. Unfortunately, the Order had complicated that idea in what felt like minutes. 

As an adult, the namelessness you happened to have became a sense of anonymity that was helpful in the world of arms dealing, even though it was dehumanizing. Even droids were called something. But you? Nothing. At best, you got called Girl. At worst, you got called derogatory terms that made your stomach churn, though those situations mostly occurred in the dim lighting of the Cantina, and they most often ended with your fist colliding with someone’s face. 

And that brought you back to exactly that location, sitting on a barstool and staring into your 4th empty glass of the night. Perhaps it was your 5th? You weren’t completely confident in either of those numbers. The room was starting to delicately swim around you, and the ache of loneliness in your chest was beginning to amplify just as it always did when you drank. 

You were just beginning to lose yourself in your Rebellion Pilot daydreams when you felt a hand grasp at your arm. Before you could register it, you were stumbling through the back door of the establishment and out by the trash compactor units. 

While this would be an alarming occurence to anyone else, you knew exactly who’s hand it was that pulled you out here. 

“Stars, Minx,” You cursed, tugging your arm back to your body, “You can always ask me to follow you, you know. I think we’re friendly enough for that.” 

MN-639, otherwise known as Minx by nobody other than yourself, was the Stormtrooper who most often accompanied General Hux when he came to meet with you. She was always the one to tug you out of the Cantina and force you into a potentially unwelcome negotiation. Unwelcome as these meetings happened to be, you weren’t dumb enough to get yourself killed at the hands of a stormtrooper. Not when you could be making money off of a failing Empire.

However, this meeting was destined for something else. It was time to end this whole long-standing relationship you had with the Order. 

You stumbled a bit, clicking your tongue as the taste of alcohol settled on the back of your throat. You were desperate for more, as if getting more intoxicated would help you rip off the bandage on a wound you were about to air. 

“General Hux,” You said, straightening your spine, “to what do I owe the pleasure?”

Armitage Hux looked back at you as if you were an insolent child at his feet, his hands tucked behind his back as the piercing blue of his eyes seemed to gaze clean through you. You always hated that air of superiority he had. 

“For your sake, I think it would be wise to keep the pleasantries to yourself,” He sneered, kicking at the dirt as he slowly began to circle you, like a predator stalking its prey. This wasn’t uncommon. You’d figured he wanted a chance to intimidate you, considering he never got to do that on his own turf. That was left to his higher ups. 

“My sincerest apologies, General,” You said, hiccupping and raising a fist to pound on your chest. “I take it you’re here to make an offer?” 

Hux made one last lap around you, eventually re-settling at your front, Minx standing just over his left shoulder. You offered her a wink. 

“Yes. The supreme leader has heard rumors you’re working on something? A ship, he says. I suppose you have the blueprints prepared?” He asked, and you could hear the blatant arrogance in his voice. You rolled your eyes, the alcohol in your bloodstream allowing for you to be a bit too forward with your thoughts.

“I might. Not that I’m offering to hand them over, though,” You said, staring down at the toe of your work boot as you twisted it into the sand.

“I beg your pardon?” He asked, blinking in disbelief. He huffed out a facetious laugh, crystal eyes narrowed to slits. “What’s this? The little arms dealer girl is betraying the Order?”

You knew it would be stupid to finish those blueprints, of course. Especially since you were intending on snuffing out the candle of your ties to the Order. But you’d been working on those plans for years. And perhaps they’d be useful to General Organa. So, you kept working, and you kept your lips sealed about the fact the plans were being worked on.

Unfortunately, the Order had spies everywhere you turned. 

“Look, Hux, I’m through with you,” You said, inhaling sharply, “It’s against my best interest to keep selling weapons to the order. I’m done with the whole arms dealing thing. If you’d excuse me, I’d like to return to my drink, thanks.”

You turned on your heel, a sense of pride lifting your chest as you took your first few steps. You’d done it. You were so close to having your life back in your own hands again, and it felt incredible.   
Unfortunately, before you could make it within 5 feet of the door, Hux had ordered Minx’s blaster to aim for your head. You froze, hearing the sound of his footsteps just behind you.

“There’s been more whispers, you know,” He spoke, and you were suddenly extremely aware of his breath on the nape of your neck, “Whispers that you might be leaving Tatooine to work with the rebellion.”

Ah….So word had gotten around. You swallowed thickly, turning to find yourself practically nose to nose with Hux. If you turned your head to the side, you’d be nose to nose with the firing end of a blaster. 

“And where’d you hear that?” You asked, your confidence waning as you tried your hardest to stare him down. 

“Our supreme leader has spies, you know. Spies that happened to see you having a little meeting with a Rebel pilot known as Dameron.”

Your breath hitched, eyes blowing wide against your mental will. Shit. Shit, shit, shit. He was bluffing. He had to be. You knew there were spies, but you mostly assumed that they kept tabs of what you worked on. Of course, these rumors had their truth. You’d met with Poe Dameron to discuss leaving arms dealing and becoming a Rebel engineer and pilot. Finally you’d be standing your ground and standing for what you believed in. Now, those plans seemed as distant as the memories of your childhood. 

Clearly, Hux had decided the look in your eyes meant you were guilty. If only you had the ability to hide what you felt. He smirked, gesturing to Minx with a flick of his wrist.

“You know what to do,” He said aside to Minx, turning his back to you as he walked towards his ship, “Ren will just love dealing with you.”

“I’m sorry, what?” You asked, attempting to follow him. To your utmost surprise, your head was struck with a deafening CRACK, the barrel of the blaster striking you in the jaw and sending you tumbling to your knees, vision swimming until it seemed to disappear completely.

Why would Kylo Ren, Commander of the first order and apprentice of Supreme Leader Snoke, want to have anything to do with the petty execution of some little Rebel pilot girl? It seemed absurd that he’d want anything to do with this. 

The feeling of dread that began to rise in your chest was unlike anything you’d ever experienced before, and you had no desire to experience it now. 

The last thing you remembered was your limp unconscious body being lifted from the dirt and carried into the ship of the First Order general, sheer terror making you feel as if your heart was being constricted inside of you. 

You had never once met with Kylo Ren. You’d heard his name leave Hux’s lips with a sound of inherent disgust, and you’d heard stories of the damage he’d caused. But never once had you met with him personally. You were surprised that he even knew who you were.

The very thought made you want to vomit the contents of your stomach onto the ship’s floor.

You might as well kiss the thought of fighting for the Rebellion goodbye.


	2. Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The interrogation room. What you don't know, Kylo does.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some force choking and a lot of vomiting lol. So...basicallyy.....enjoy it.
> 
> Chapters get longer after this one. The next one was like 12 pages on google docs

You awoke with a gasp, immediately trying to shoot forward. You were met with the tension of restraints holding you at the wrist, and you winced, falling back again.

As your senses woke up, you felt the dull pounding of a hangover in the front of your head and the sharp ache of the wound at your jaw. You opened and closed it again, trying to make sure it was still functional at the least. You were sure if you had the means to inspect your face, you’d find a sizable lump sitting just where you’d been struck, reds and purples prickling beneath the surface of your skin. You could taste the metallic tang of your own blood settling between your teeth. 

The familiar feeling of remorse was settling, only this time it was different. Stronger, more painful. It was the kind of pain that made you wish you had never been born.

The room you were contained in was ice cold, as if nobody had thought to turn the heat on in a decade. It left you shuddering, shivers running up and down your body as if you were suffering from a fever. It smelled of dirt and sweat, though you began to wonder if that was just emanating off of you. Not only that, but you had been left in stark black darkness. You weren’t able to comprehend much upon waking, but you did know that you felt deeply alone like that.

As you regained your ability to think coherently, you remembered the last words you’d heard Hux say to you before you’d been beaten to the ground. 

Ren will just love dealing with you.

This didn’t help the overwhelming feeling of dread rising in your throat, manifesting in the form of pure vomit rising up your esophagus and threatening to downpour onto your chest. You turned your head as best you could, retching and heaving the contents of your stomach onto the floor beside you. This was the most pathetic you’d ever felt.

The darkness seemed to draw on for a while. The room seemed to be soundproofed completely, depriving you of two of your senses. The feeling of paranoia was drawing in on you quickly, wondering exactly what Kylo Ren would do to you when he entered the room. It wasn’t that you wanted to know, but you thought that maybe you’d be able to find comfort if you at least were aware of the plans. 

Almost as if it were on cue, you heard the sound of a chamber door open, heavy boots stomping methodically down a corridor that appeared to be behind you and out of your line of sight. The lights flickered on, and you coughed, the acid congealing with the blood at the back of your throat in a horrific cocktail. The light turning on didn’t do much to ease your fear, but at least you had confirmation that you hadn’t mysteriously gone blind. 

You wished you could close your eyes and wake up in your cot on Tatooine, but you knew that was a foolish wish. Instead, you stiffened, steadying your nerves as well as one could in a moment like this. The view of Kylo Ren, or what you assumed was him, moved into your peripheral vision.

He looked as you’d expected him to. Tall, broad frame concealed beneath layer upon layer of black fabric and armor. If the room was any darker, he’d blend into the wall, save for the glint of metal on the hilt of the lightsaber on his hip. Your eyes scanned his body foot to neck, and you were completely unsurprised to find his face obscured by the outline of a mask.

You automatically assumed him a copycat of the villainous Darth Vader. If you hadn’t been so completely petrified by the lack of expression he showed, you could laugh right in his face. Instead, you remained frozen, trying to force the panic-induced tension out of every muscle in your body.

“Good of you to join me,” He spoke, and you jumped, the sound of his deep voice beneath a modulator frightening you so much you felt as though you should shoot out of your restraints and clean through the roof.

Even through his speech, he seemed completely devoid of emotion or opinion. Most people spoke to you with an air of disgust, as if you were a lesser being. You found yourself pleased with the change from the usual, and then realized how disgusting that was. 

“I wasn’t given much of a choice,” You managed to grumble, your voice catching on jagged edges as it escaped your alcohol and acid burned throat. You coughed again, wishing you could wipe the vomit from your mouth. You were certain you looked like a scared animal, bile dripping from blood-stained lips and chest heaving from the onset of anxiety the entire situation you’d been thrust into was bringing. 

“What is your name?” Kylo asked, and silence seemed to echo through the entire chamber. You squinted, tilting your head in utter bemusement.

“I’m sorry?” You asked rhetorically, huffing out a laugh. “They didn’t tell you? Don’t have one. Never have.”

Kylo seemed to stare at you, though you couldn’t be sure. The fact that his face was completely hidden from you made it difficult to discern whether he was looking at you or somewhere else completely. It was his presence that made it seem like he was boring through you with the blacks of the eyes that you had yet to see. You felt heat crawl up the back of your neck and into the apples of your cheeks. 

He hummed behind his modulator, as if he was agreeing with you. There was nothing to agree to, it was a simple fact that you were nameless.

“No parents. No name. Just a filthy arms dealer on Tatooine,” He spoke, tone as if he were checking things off on a list. Your heart seemed to halt for a moment as he spoke so casually of the things you’d learned to ignore, “Completely insignificant to anyone.”

You opened your mouth to retort, words of fire and venom resting just behind your teeth, waiting for the moment to burst out like firecrackers. You stilled them, recalling the fact that this was Commander Kylo Ren you were speaking to, not good old Hux. This was unfamiliar turf, and you had a sneaking suspicion that any act of disrespect towards the man in front of you would warrant your decapitation. You shuddered at the thought. 

“Scared?” He asked, and you snapped out of your own musings, looking at him with wide eyes. You’d nearly forgotten he could see you.

“You wish,” you muttered, trying to rope back in some of your courage. He’s just a man. 

There was a man behind that mask. You could only hope to the Maker that you were right about that. 

Quickly, and with ill-omened zeal, he stepped forward. One gloved palm raised, just inches from your face, and you closed your eyes. If you were to die, you weren’t going to look at him while it happened. To allow him that pleasure would be the last thing you’d think of doing on your deathbed.

A rush of agonizing pain clutched down on your skull, feeling as if it would crumble your bones to dust beneath it’s fingertips, and you gulped for breath, unable to take in the amount you needed to stop the ache spreading like wildfire through your nerve endings.

You wanted to scream, kick, punch, anything to fight back, but it wasn’t possible. You tried desperately to recoil in on yourself, nearly tearing your limbs from your body as they were stalled by the restraints that held them, and you quaked with the power of a wild beast. 

This was unlike anything you’d ever felt before.

As quickly as it had begun, it stopped, and your eyes shot open again as you grappled for any sense of reality. You could feel the wetness of tears sitting on your cheeks as your ears called out to you in a painful ring. You didn’t remember beginning to cry, and you didn’t remember it stopping. You just remembered the feeling of having your brain shredded to bits in the hands of someone far larger and more powerful than you. 

You rotated to the side again, your body rejecting bile from the barren depths of your stomach and onto Kylo Ren’s stark black boots. You couldn’t give a damn if he killed you for it, and you couldn’t stop it if you wanted to. It was your body’s reaction to the eternity of hell it had experienced in just seconds.

You panted, ashamed and terrified as you gazed up at him through hooded eyes. What the hell was that? You were certain it was the force, but you couldn’t tell what he had been using it for, and you most definitely didn’t want to prod him to find out. Still, the anger in your chest managed to escape through a glare. 

“If I’m so fucking insignificant,” You spat, coughing again and pulling your exhausted body back to the restraint table, “Then how come I’m here? How come you’re the one interrogating me, and not some low station officer?”

He raised his hand again, and you feared the worst, wrenching and convulsing like a bug trapped beneath someone’s magnifying glass. For a moment, you discarded your pride and looked at him through pleading eyes. 

“Don’t. Please.”

The pain never came. Instead, it was replaced by a leathered thumb sliding along your bottom lip, collecting stomach acid stained red with your blood. You were beginning to wonder if your stomach was bleeding, too. 

He was so careful, almost as if he had suddenly found it in his heartless soul to care for the girl in front of him. You doubted that, though. As far as you knew, he cared for no one, and it was highly unlikely he’d care for somebody that he had strapped to a table and tortured in front of him.

He gazed down the red on his thumb, silent for an agonizingly long moment. The only sound you could hear was your own staggered breath as you watched him, nearly mezmorized at the action. You continued to watch as he pulled his dirtied glove from his hand, tossing it into an unseen corner of the room.

The skin of his hand was like a piece of metal, catching and reflecting light, drawing your attention instantaneously. It was confirmation that the man beneath the mask was just that. Just a simple, plain man. Your heart rate began to slow, and you felt the prickle of heat in your cheeks again.

“You’re embarrassed,” He observed again, hands dropping to his sides. You couldn’t take your eyes off of the pale skin he had revealed. Just a man.

You shook your head, wordlessly denying the undeniable. You didn’t know what was happening, but you really hoped that he wasn’t right.

“You have a name. It’s in your head,” He spoke, bare fingertips reaching up and brushing disheveled hair from your eyes, “I saw it. Didn’t you?”

You swallowed thickly, coming to the realization that he had been inside of your mind. Just like that, your heartbeat picked up speed again.

“You looked in my head?” You asked, feeling naked at the thought of somebody else seeing what was behind your carefully crafted demeanor. 

“You have a name. And a family,” He spoke, pulling the fingertips of the remaining glove up one by one, “Or should I say had?”

He pulled the leather from his hand and set it beside your head, drawing your eyes to it immediately. What was he going to do?

“They left you on Tatooine completely alone,” He said, folding his hands behind his back, “not knowing just how much skill you would grow to have. Not only an engineer and an inventor, but a useful pilot.”

The clouds were beginning to part. This was a counter offer. You found yourself huffing a bitter laugh, eyebrows raising. 

“If you think for one fucking second that I am going to offer anything to the order after this, you’ve got to be insane.”

“I wasn’t asking for an offer,” He spoke, sending chills up your spine, the intonation dark and commanding, “I believe my Stormtroopers have already committed a raid on your home. The blueprints we were in search of are now in our possession.”

He may as well have pulled back a fist and punched you straight in the gut. Those blueprints could lead to the total destruction of the Rebel Alliance, and in turn the galaxy as you knew it. Not only that, but they so clearly belonged to you that anyone would know who had designed the weapons the Order was firing. Poe, and the entire rest of the Rebellion would know that you’d been selling weapons to the order. 

“Kill me then,” You spat, surrendering hope. If there was a reason for you to live, it was becoming something better than a miserable nameless woman on Tatooine. Kylo had just ripped that fate right out from under your feet.

“If you have those blueprints, you have everything you need. In fact, I’m sure you have more than that. Your little Stormtroopers probably took everything they saw. You’ll be quite comfortable without me, so why don’t you just kill me.”

“Why would I kill you when I know you could be useful to us?” He spoke.  
You were crying again, only this time you knew it. Tears ran down your cheeks as you pleaded for your own execution. You leaned forward, wrists twisting and cracking in the restraints as you forced yourself forward and into Kylo’s face.

You hated the fact that being wanted by the Order made you feel something similar to joy. You’d had to seek out the Rebellion. They hadn’t come to you. But here you were, tied to a table as Kylo Ren was offering you work. 

“Come on, Ren. Kill me. Do it,” You hissed, sputtering and sobbing, though the rage was clear in your eyes. You couldn’t take that job. It would go against everything you’d fought for. 

Like a lightning strike in it’s speed, you felt the air around you shove you back against the table by the throat. Your eyes shot open as you choked, breathless and horrified at the hands of a murderer.

Kylo Ren’s hand was raised, fingers curling ever-so-slightly as he force choked you. You wondered if this was what it felt like to know you were going to die, and you hope that you didn’t have much time left to find out. 

He stepped closer, mask nearly brushing against your cheek as you cried out silently, trying to fight back in any way you could manage. 

“Is that what you want?” He spoke, voice low and questioning. You were beginning to see spots in your vision field. You gave yourself 10 seconds before your entire body would shut down. 

10

“Yes,” You choked out, surrendering to the pressure on your neck. You stared at him, unafraid and bright red. 

9

His fingers tightened, sending you slightly up the table. “You could be an advantage to us.” He spoke.

8

You could feel drool pooling in the corners of your mouth. “Fuck you,” You sputtered out.

7

Your heart was pounding, you could hear it slamming against your bones like it was trying to escape. You wouldn’t last much longer like this.

6

“You think you’d become something with the Rebellion? Like that pilot?”

5

Your nails dug into the palms of your hands, vision hardly existing anymore. “Maybe I would be. I’d rather work for them than for you.” 

4

If Kylo’s mask had been off, you’d be able to feel his breath on your cheek. You were sure of it. 

3

“You could be something here. With the Order.”

2  
You were teetering just on the edge of consciousness now. 

1

“Don’t you want to know your name?”

0

Darkness consumed you, just as it had as you were carried into this mess. You could feel the pressure lift from your throat, and you could hear as Kylo exited the room again, the door closing behind him.

He held your very identity in his hands. Something you’d been yearning for since the earliest moment you could recall. 

Not only did he know the things you’d secretly longed to know, but he held the promise of being someone important. You’d wanted that your whole life. 

And now he was going to use that against you.


	3. Three.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A change of plans and an unusual meeting with the Commander leaves you confused

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not really any warnings for this one! Let me know if you enjoy this by leaving a comment and/or kudos ;)

The next time you woke up felt like being thrown into cold water. Your mind seemed to activate so rapidly that it physically hurt, thoughts flying around in a confusing whirlwind in your skull.

For a second, you had forgotten where you were. The restraints and vomit in your throat startled you as you were easing into consciousness again, though soon served as a reminder of your location. You wondered just how long you’d been out. You groaned, tired of being like this.

You swallowed and you could feel what felt like a bruise on your throat, though there had been no contact between your neck and Kylo’s hand. You wondered if the Force could leave bruises like that, and what it could possibly look like. Maybe the pain was all in your head, but you really couldn’t tell, and you weren’t sure you wanted to be able to. 

You were about to start trying to recount your interrogation when you heard the chamber door open, footsteps echoing just as menacing as they had the first time you’d heard them. Only this time, there seemed to be more people entering the room. You craned your head back, desperate to get a look, hoping to warn yourself of the troubles to come.

Two uniform clad Stormtroopers came into your vision and you sighed a heavy sigh of relief. Maybe you weren’t strong enough to fight Kylo Ren, but you had no doubt in your mind that you weren’t in danger in the hands of two troopers.

“Well,” You started, the mask of being nonchalant forming quickly, “Hello, boys. Commander Ren sent you to check up on me? Make sure he didn’t choke me to death?” 

They looked at each other, expressionless masks somehow managing to look confused. One of them shook their head, sighing through their modulator. 

“Commander Ren has asked us to escort you to your chamber,” He said, the other trooper beginning to release your appendages from the restraints. You slid from the table, unprepared for the fall, landing on your hands and knees with an unpleasant thud.

You stood up, body aching with the memory of the damage previously inflicted. The ache served as a momentary distraction, thoughts clouded before the words he had spoken clicked in your head. You blinked rapidly, and you began to wonder if this entire thing has been some absurd nightmare.

“My chamber?” You asked, rubbing at the indents the restraints had left in your wrists, “last time I checked, I was a prisoner here. Not some sleepover guest.”

“Commander Ren’s orders were very clear,” The trooper said again, shuffling around your vomit on the floor. He reached your side, hand placed on your shoulder as he began to escort your out of the room.

Chamber? Why were you being moved to your own chamber? Assuming it wasn’t a different, even worse interrogation chamber, the circumstances were beginning to look unusual. 

“You can tell your Commander that I’m not doing shit for him,” You hissed, stumbling along unwillingly through the corridor and into the confusing halls of wherever it was you’d been taken. 

“Look, lady, I’m just doing my job,” The trooper said with audible exasperation, his partner grasping your other shoulder with a firm hold, almost as if he was afraid to let you go. It was fair to assume you’d take off running the moment you had the chance, though you really weren’t sure of where you’d run to. 

The halls you were being led through were all colored black with accents of steel, menacing in a way not dissimilar to dying. It was as if the fear of the unknown and the fear of the dark were being combined, the hallways a labyrinth of massive proportions. You hated the way that you could hear everyone’s footsteps so clearly, almost as if your skull was an empty pit in which soundwaves could echo. 

You felt as if you were being bought out by the Order, like they were just trying to offer enough to make you feel like you were desired in their ranks, important to them for reasons unknown. But you knew that they didn’t want you. They wanted the way your mind worked and they wanted the skills that you were trying to offer someone else. As horrible as that was, your feelings were beginning to betray you.

Nobody had ever wanted you. Not your parents, not friends, not lovers that came and went. There was never a single person in the whole galaxy that needed you. You’d spent so long just trying to prove yourself to the Rebellion and join their ranks, but they never came to you.  
and now, you stood on the Finalizer with the promise that you could become someone important for once. Sure, you would become something you’d always known as evil, but it was still something.  
The way that Kylo had called you useful, an advantage made something in you spark to life. It took all of your will to fight it back and rationalize what was happening. 

You were being bought out like an object by people who were no good. That was what was happening. Nothing more, nothing less. The complications were irrelevant. 

You stayed silent until you seemed to reach your destination. A tall steel doorway stood in front of you, the Stormtroopers who were guiding you coming to a halt. One of them typed in a code on a keypad beside the door, and it sprung open on cue. 

The room wasn’t much. All black, just as you’d expected. A bed against the wall, black sheets sitting folded on top of the mattress. It wasn’t anything too fancy, but it was more than you’d become used to back home. The room looked almost sterile, bare of anything that wasn’t a necessity. There was a small door off to the side, which you assumed could be a restroom. 

“This is it,” The Trooper who’d done all the talking said, and you wondered why the other Stormtrooper hadn’t said anything. Must not have been the talkative type. 

“Looks great. Just great,” You said, pulling yourself from their hands and stepping into the room. Your tone was oozing sarcasm, and you almost felt bad for being so disagreeable to people who were just trying to do their job and not get killed. Still, your entire life had been flipped upside down.  
You gave yourself permission to be annoyed. 

How long would you be there? You couldn’t say. But you’d be lying if you said that this wasn’t an upgrade from sand and a cot. Still, planning your escape was finding its place on your to-do list. 

You turned back to face the troopers, arms crossed over your chest. It was a relief to have your whole body back again, nothing tied down to a table. You raised your eyebrows at them, questioning why they were still staring you down.

“Can I help you?” You asked.

“Commander Ren will be by at some point. He’s busy, but he will be here,” The trooper spoke, and you rolled your eyes.

“Great! I can’t wait. Definitely so excited to talk to him again,” You said, grinning like an angry animal about to attack, wide and biting. The anger that was bubbling up inside of you was nearly uncontrollable, and you were about ready to hit the breaking point.

“Maybe, if I’m lucky, I’ll get choked out again!” You exclaimed, forging a bitter laugh. You dropped your arms to your sides and moved towards the door with heavy feet, both Stormtroopers stumbling back as if you had physically moved them.

“If you’d excuse me, I’ll be getting ready for that now.”

You placed your hand on what you assumed was the panel for the door, and were relieved to find it closing in front of you, shutting out the rest of the Order and leaving you to your own prerogative inside your chamber. 

You were once again left in a silent room. While less horrifying and fear-inducing, you still felt like a creature trapped behind the bars of a cage. In all honesty, that comparison wasn’t far from the truth. You were stuck inside the palm of Kylo Ren’s hand, and the only way you could escape was if you jumped off the damn thing.

You felt like a ticking time bomb about to blow, a million emotions combining into one clear and concise feeling of blinding rage, causing your entire body to tremble.

You opened your mouth, a piercing scream leaving it, and you launched a punch at the wall just beside the door. 

The pain of the collision radiated up your arm, and you were thankful to feel something new. While not a pleasant something, it was still something that you could control. 

No matter how strong you knew you actually could be, you were trapped in a situation that seemed to have you shackled to the ground.  
All you wanted was to cut your ties to the Order and begin the fight you’d longed for most of your life. Instead you were handed your ass on a platter, and it had ‘Property of Kylo Ren’ branded into it in scarlet letters. 

For the second time since your arrival, you started to cry. You pressed your back against the same wall you’d just punched, sliding down until you landed with your knees curled up to your chest, head in your hands as you wracked your brain for anything that could help you.

The familiar ache of being alone and miserable settled in your chest, replacing the anger and leaving you defective. You could feel yourself shattering like glass, and it caused your lungs to gulp for air as you wept

Everything hurt. There wasn’t a single part of you that didn’t. Physical pain was enough to handle by itself, and so was emotional pain. You’d had your fair share of fights that left you beaten and bloodied, and you’d lived your entire life in solitude longing to know who you were. But the combined efforts of the two made everything so much worse. Surrendering your life at the hands of Kylo Ren began to seem like an option to take into consideration. 

At some point, your tears ceased, the well running dry. You were just sitting, holding your knees and staring at your bed with an agonizing ache taking up the places where your insides should be. 

Eventually, you decided to stand, hands pressing against the ground and forcing your back up the wall. You regained your footing, still unsteady from the incident in the interrogation chamber. Your stomach felt like it was full of knives, all of your drinking and throwing it back up again finally catching up with you.  
You steadied your breathing and moved to the center of the room.

There were no viewports, only stark black walls and the unsettling feeling that left inside of you. 

There was a wardrobe in the corner of the room, and you were certain that it wouldn’t serve a purpose to you as long as you only owned one set of clothes. You moved towards it, opening it to find it was completely empty, just as you suspected.  
As you closed it again, you remembered the second door you saw, the one you’d assumed was a restroom. You turned your back to the wardrobe and walked towards it.

There was a panel beside the door, and you placed your hand onto it, the metal opening upon your command.

It was, in fact, a restroom.  
You were surprised by the fact the walls were painted a clean shade of white, contrasting the otherwise dark living quarters.  
A sizable shower sat on the far wall, and a sink against the wall in front of you. A toilet sat directly beside it. 

Hanging on the towel holder was a singular towel and a robe. Kylo must have made the assumption you’d like to clean the sweat and blood off.

‘How kind of him.’ You thought, stepping into the room and closing the door behind you.

You stepped towards the shower, turning it on and watching the hot water fall like a curtain from the shower head. It seemed to invite you in, the promise of warm water on your aching muscles intoxicating you.

You stripped your clothes off, layer by layer, kicking them aside and stepping beneath the flow.

The hot water had a numbing effect, everything seeming to just melt away under the heat. For a moment, you felt as if you could breathe again, air and steam filling your lungs and curing the hollowness you felt.  
You looked around the shower, finding soap and using it to wash your body. The suds took the dirt and grime of Tatooine away, as well as the blood and vomit. Finally, you were starting to feel your head clear. 

You remained there for a while, taking deep breaths with your eyes shut tight. The longer you stayed there, the less you had to face what was happening.  
But, eventually the water began to run cold, and you were forced to pull the towel from the rack.

Once you were dry, you pulled on the robe that had been left to you, and you began to survey your reflection in the mirror.

Just as you’d suspected, your jaw was decorated with splatters of blacks and blues, bruised from the pistol whip you’d been at the receiving end of.  
While that wound had been expected, the hand-shaped bruise you found winding around your throat was not. You reached up, brushing the pads of your fingers against the developing mark.

Kylo had not even touched you, and yet his use of the force had marked you with what was undeniably his hand.

The effects of the hot water vanished just as quickly as they’d appeared, and you found yourself feeling sick to your stomach as you remembered the words he had spoken to you moments before your vision faded to black.  
“Don’t you want to know your name?”  
You would be lying to yourself if you answered that with a no. 

You turned your back on yourself, knowing that the sight of yourself would only make you want to punch a hole clean through the glass.

As you stepped out into the bedroom, you were startled by the slight of a figure clothed in severe black looming in the center of the floor, arms folded behind his back in a militant stance.  
You nearly yelped in surprise, hand flying to stop the sound from escaping your mouth.

“Do you know how to knock?” You asked with a displeasured tone, towel drying your hair as you stood in the doorway.  
Kylo’s gaze seemed to bore through you, his stance never wavering as he looked fixedly towards your direction. 

“We need to discuss the terms of your stay,” He stated, and you rolled your eyes, dropping the towel aside and turning to face him, tightening the ties of your robe.

“Let me guess,” You started, picking at the dirt in your nail beds, refusing to look at him, “In exchange for this oh-so-grand bedroom here, you want me to keep drafting blueprints for weapons and fight on your side? Not gonna happen.”

“I don’t believe you have a choice,” He said, moving to examine with only partial attention the sheets that had been laid out for you. You took note of how both of his gloves had reappeared, and you wondered if they were the same gloves he had been wearing before.

You nodded, pursing your lips with obvious irritation.  
“Right! Cuz I’m not just your precious little arms dealer. I also happen to be scum off Tatooine who you’re holding captive. Forgot that detail.”

“If you knew what was good for you, girl, you’d stop protesting my orders,” He spoke, voice like gravel through his helmet’s modulator. He didn’t seem to hear you, and even if he did, he didn’t seem to care.

“And what exactly will happen if I don’t?” You asked defiantly, arms tucking around yourself and you looked at him through narrow eyes.  
Silence fell momentarily, and you felt a chill roll down your spine. You shuddered, inhaling as a means to stabilize your nerves.

“How does your throat feel?” 

There it was, the retort that threatened you with no more than 5 words.  
If he could utilize the power of the Force to send you spiraling into unconsciousness, you had no doubt in your mind that he would cause much more taxing damage to the rest of you.  
Dying in Kylo Ren’s hands would be counterintuitive, and you found yourself backing down on the attitude.

“So, you’ll just keep hurting me? Strong threats from someone who seems to cower behind a mask,” You ridiculed, though your intestines were tying in knots inside of you. The words snuck out through drawn together teeth. 

You stepped forward, pulling the sheets from his idle hand with wavering fortitude, causing him to step back, and you settled on the fact that you’d have to stay the night, at the very least. 

From behind you you could hear the rustle of fabric and the thud of boots colliding with the floor, and you felt the muscles lining your spinal cord seize in a moment of fear. You shot around, damp hair sticking to your neck as you looked up to face him.

Kylo Ren stood a few feet in front of you, still as stone for the duration of a moment.  
Slowly and with great deliberation, he lifted his leather-clad hands to rest at either side of his mask, releasing it’s hold and lifting it languidly from his head.

He looked nothing like you’d expected him to.

Shoulder length raven hair fell in loose waves to the nape of his neck, framing a face that was dotted with freckles and beauty marks. His silhouette seemed to be composed of sharp angles, a bold nose sitting between amber colored eyes.  
You could see something concealed behind them. He was young, and handsome, and violently plagued by his own inner confrontation. He was so alike you and nothing you expected a First Order Commander to be. 

“Does my face disturb you?” He asked, and you realized you must have been staring rather heavily. You cleared your throat, heat climbing up your chest and into your face. 

“I expected an old man,” You spoke, hoping to the Maker that he couldn’t hear the thoughts inside your head, making a desperate attempt to mask the embarrassment you felt as you turned back to your bedding. 

You didn’t know how you were meant to feel.  
You knew that there was just a man beneath that mask, but you hadn’t anticipated the anguish you’d found inside his stare.  
Maybe that was the reason he hid his face. So nobody could see he was crying wordlessly for help.

‘Maybe he’s afraid people will see he’s just as scared as they are.’

“Your thoughts are loud, you know” He spoke, and you clutched at the black fabric in your hands, surprised by how he managed to speak so softly and yet with such conviction. His tone was nearly warm.  
“What makes you think I’m afraid?”

“I can see it. In your eyes,” You said, swallowing thickly and turning back to the work of tucking your sheets in, “You’re in pain. And afraid. I know because I can see the same look in my eyes everytime I look in the mirror.”

You could hear his footsteps again, growing closer with each movement, and you tucked the blankets in rapidly.  
You spun around just in time to find him standing above you, confining you with your calves braced against the cold metal of the bed frame. You intinctively tucked your arms across your chest.

As he looked down at you, you could see the thought process behind his eyes, and you realized that this was more daunting then the emotionless gaze from beneath the mask. You stared back, unblinking and silently pleading for him to spare you from whatever it was he was contemplating doing to you. 

“I’m not going to hurt you,” He uttered, and you realized he hadn’t moved his lips. Your eyes widened, jaw falling slack as you looked at him in disbelief.

“Can you hear me?” He asked, brows furrowing as his eyes darted across your face. You drew yourself out of your astonishment, nodding in response. 

The air in the room felt heavy, almost as if it were pressing you down into the ground. You wanted to speak, find anything you could say to break the ever-present silence that seemed to have appeared the moment you found yourself inside of Kylo’s head, but you couldn’t find a single word inside of your mouth. 

Instead, you just stood, eyes fixated on his as he seemed to search you for any answer to the questions he undoubtedly had bouncing around his mind.  
To your great surprise, he reached forward, fingers settling below your chin and softly pressing beneath it. You tilted your head back obediently, disarmed by the caution he seemed to be taking with touching you.  
His eyes fell to the mark on your neck, and you felt yourself turn red at the staggering sense that you were weak in his grasp.

His gloved fingers moved along the column of your throat, brushing gently over your skin until he reached the contact point of the bruise. You thought for one fleeting moment that he may reach forward and squeeze. 

“I’m not going to hurt you,” He repeated once more inside your shared consciousness, and you nodded once in understanding. You weren’t sure why you should trust him, but your body seemed unwilling to argue with your sense of rationality. 

He lingered there for a moment, hand gently resting on top of your skin. After a while like this, he seemed to fall into his own spiral of thoughts, the panic obvious as he tensed the muscles in his jaw.

Just as if it had never happened, he pulled back, footsteps thudding through the room as he replaced his mask, undoubtedly moving to exit both the room and the situation you’d both fallen involuntarily into. You could feel the fury begin to boil inside of him.

Just as he reached the doorway, he came to a standstill, turning only his head to look back at you.

“You will be supplied with new uniforms in the morning,” He declared, almost robotically as he placed his hand on the door panel and exited the room, leaving you in deafening silence.

You hadn’t realized until he left that you had been holding your breath. You inhaled, tremoring as you stood, completely bewildered by whatever it was that had just happened. 

Kylo could hear your thoughts, of course. That was to be expected.  
What you hadn’t anticipated was the evidence that you could hear him, too.  
What you really hadn’t anticipated was the cautious examination of the wound he had left on your skin.

With nothing left to do, your body went into autopilot, mind busied by the billions of thoughts and exclamations evolving in your mind as you crawled beneath the bed sheets.

It wasn’t long before you succumbed to the exhaustion you’d been left with from the events of the day, your own fingertips resting carefully over the handprint on your throat as your thoughts faded into restless sleep.


	4. The One Where the Author Fd Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oof

I gotta go back and rewrite portions of this cuz it sucks, so everyone hold onto your hats and stay tuned for a REAL update once I get this shitshow sorted out xoxo


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